


The Decision

by ariel2me



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 17:51:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariel2me/pseuds/ariel2me
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where Robert Baratheon died, Rhaegar Targaryen did not kidnap or run away with Lyanna Stark, and Lyanna Stark married Stannis Baratheon. </p><p>Sequel to Times Like These. (http://archiveofourown.org/works/536054)</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Decision

**Author's Note:**

> I've included this into Times Like These, which is currently a WIP :)

She had married him for duty, he had always believed. The truth, as always, turned out to be not as simple. It was because of duty. It was not, strictly speaking, merely because of duty. It was because of a look on another woman’s face. It was not, strictly speaking, merely because of a look on another woman’s face.

She had married him out of despair, he finally concluded. And guilt. That she had caused pain to another, with a love she had once cherished. What did that make him? Her way of punishing herself? Her way of expiating her guilt and regret?

 _Her husband. It makes me her husband. No more and no less._ Repeating the words to himself did not make him believe them more.

Her newfound openness perplexed him. Robert, even amidst his infatuation and idolization of Lyanna Stark, had let slip one disappointment. “She’s so … reserved. I don’t know what she’s thinking most of the time.”

“She barely knows you,” Stannis had replied without much interest. “What do you expect, that she will tell you all her _hopes_ and _dreams_ and how _ecstatic_ she is about marrying you?” Robert had not been amused.

Yet since that night she finally told him all that had transpired between herself, Prince Rhaegar and Princess Elia, it was as if a floodgate had been opened. She told him many, many things. Things she said she had not shared even with Ned.

She told him about fighting at the tourney. About Rhaegar finding her and unmasking her, but keeping her secret.

 _So it was not merely a silly and shallow infatuation, crowning her Queen of Love and Beauty_. The thought ought to be somewhat reassuring - at least the Crown Prince seemed to still have _some_ sense -and yet it was not reassuring at all. He did not understand why.

She told him of her tears listening to Rhaegar’s song. “I thought my tears were for his pain, but they were all for mine. Mine and mine alone.”

He did not know what to say to that. _Did you hate it that much? The thought of marrying my brother?_ He wanted to ask, but never could.

_Did you cry too, when you knew you had to marry Robert’s brother? That his death in fact did not set you free?_

If he was truly honest with himself, what perplexed him more, in fact, what alarmed him more, was her obvious expectation that he would reciprocate the gesture. That he would also tell her things he had never told anyone.

“Have you ever loved anyone?”

“My parents, of course. Renly.” He paused. “Robert too, I suppose,” he continued grudgingly.

“No … I meant, a woman.”

“My mother is a woman.”

She laughed. “Oh Stannis! That’s beneath you. Taking refuge in technicalities.”

“It’s the truth,” he insisted, and changed the subject to Renly’s unruly behavior that morning.

It was a life of sort they were building, one he had never envisioned for himself. Lord of Storm’s End. Husband of Lyanna Stark of House Stark and Winterfell. He woke up each morning feeling a pretender. No, he was already a pretender every night in her bed. Every touch, every caress, every kiss, every … union, he thought, _this should not be me, here._ He refused to meet her eyes. Those shrewd eyes, they would know, would see through him, would cut through his defenses as easy as a sharp knife cutting through butter.

She was not unhappy. She was not happy. She was beyond all that, the way she said the look on Elia Martell’s face was beyond anger and sadness. She was merely numb.

One day, she announced, out of the blue, “I’ve decided to be happy. I’ve decided to stop punishing myself.”

He had not been wrong after all, about her reason for marrying him. And yet, it finally dawned on him, what choice did she have, in the matter? She would wed the man her father wanted her to wed. Her ‘reason’ did not matter in the slightest in the end.

_Was that the pain that made you cry, listening to Rhaegar’s song?_

Instead like the fool that he was, he merely said, “I didn’t know that’s the kind of thing you can just decide, and it will come true.”

Miraculously, she did not seem disappointed with his reply. She raised her eyebrows. “Of course it is. Deciding is the crucial step. Until you have decided, you won’t start doing the work required to make it come true.”

He found it hard to believe at times that she was younger than him. It was as if she had already lived a thousand different lives, lives that he had not shared with her, and had no way of understanding.

“Don’t you want to know why?” She asked.

“Why?”

“Why should you want to know? Because you are my husband, it is your duty to know. And to ask, if you don’t know.”

His face turned red. “No … I meant, why have you decided to be happy? To stop punishing yourself?”

“Because a child deserves more from the parents than mere _not_ unhappiness. It is not enough to be not unhappy, when you are a parent.”

Robert would have grabbed her and spun her around the dining room. Cheered, hooted and yelled, for all the world to know. He was not his brother, but he was still Lyanna Stark’s husband. He slid his hand across the dining table and grasped hers. “I have decided too,” he said.

“To be happy?” She asked.

He nodded.

She chuckled. “Perhaps that is a journey too far for you at the moment. Perhaps you can decide to be _not_ unhappy. For now. I expect more from you, of course. In time.”

Two days later a raven arrived from King’s Landing, with a letter from His Grace the king summoning the Lord of Storm’s End and his bride to the city to attend Prince Rhaegar’s nameday celebration. “We have decided,” Stannis repeated the words to himself, over and over again. “We have decided in favor of happiness.”


End file.
